A familiar fox arrives, the rose behind its left ear bobbing as it bows its head to you, then takes a missive from the bag at its side.

You take the letter, and begin to read...

Greetings, and salutations! I hope you all had a pleasant and peaceful Easter!

In personal news...

Life's been erratic. I'm coming to terms with some realities that I'm not fond of; when I take a course of action, or make a choice, it seems like a lot of doors have been shut in my face. I'm trying to be all right with the things God's planned, but it's rough sometimes. I'm trying to take godly advice and to be a good, judicious steward with my materials (time, money, energy, etc), but it feels like there's just a magic tool I'm missing. Seasonal depression giving me one last good kick before taking off...

In other news, I have good friends, a cute nephew, and the spring is gorgeous (such as it is... there's some erratic behavior in there that's throwing me off.)

What I’ve Been Reading:

March was a fairly productive month for reading:

​The Lost Children was a bit of a weird one: it was trying to be creepy, and it was fairly creepy, but in a weird way I can't quantify and I don't really recommend it.

​Centaur Rising by Jane Yolen was a good story that, while also weird, was a good weird to me. Disability representation, historical trivia, and an interesting magic-in-the-real-world narrative that had me hooked.

​Embergold by Rachelle Nelson was an excellent Beauty and the Beast twist: very good, clean, and a worthwhile one. READ IT. There are dragons, curses, a cool magical castle, an evil ghosty thing, and an excellent look at love.

​Calvin was a neat story that was very well-written: a boy born the same day the Calvin and Hobbes comic strip ends is named Calvin (after a family member), and he has schizophrenia. He thinks in order to cure himself, he has to find the author of the strip and ask him to write one more, where Calvin (the boy of the strip) grows up to be a normal, happy guy... so that he will be cured.

It was a thoughtful book that dabbled in lots of things--- science, relationships, religion, etc, but I would recommend to older readers, as some of the content's a little heavy, and not necessarily a wise worldview on some of them.

​City of Villains was kind of a neat urban-fantasy style story using Disney villains as the main characters. Weird? Yes. But I kind of enjoyed it. Still, I would recommend it carefully. The whole villains-can-be-good-guys thing is tricky (though I far preferred this one, as it took the characters and very loosely based them on the Disney villains, rather than trying to make you understand and like the villains for who and what they were in the story as canonically done), and there was thematic elements, including experimentation on people, kissing, crooked police, 'racial' tension.

The excellent 100 Cupboards series, by N. D. Wilson, was one I started with my sister this month, as well. I forgot how much I liked them, despite the creepy stuff that comes with the villains... Next up, Dandelion Fire! 😁

Some Funny Stuff:

Snippets/Stories to Share:

This space was occupied, for some time, by a series of stories based on Havok's themes of the month. Last year, they had a Multiversal theme, which meant that the only thing in common amongst all the stories was a single character. They didn't have to be a major character in the story or anything... they just had to be there.

This year at Havok, the annual theme is Encore! Each month, they'll review one past season and accept new submissions for those old stories. Season Two, Stories that Sing, was one I really wanted to participate in... but found out about far too late. So, I've taken the liberty of summing it up for you: Stories that Sing was all stories based on songs. So I'll probably be doing stories like that All. Year. Long. The title of the song is clickable to the song the story's based on. I don't listen to songs with language in them, that I know of, and I'll search for clean versions if for some reason I've never understood the lyrics and have been by accident.

I'm sorry in advance, but not that sorry. If you have suggestions for songs, email me back and you might get to see one you love!

And now, for your perusal... Jesse's Girl​

Being a lifeguard ain’t a bad gig— you get the best of summer all rolled into one. Sunshine, surf, putting jerks in their place, not to mention the chicks dig it. It’s a great way to make money in the summer without too much serious stuff involved.

Sure, there are downsides… like when a fifty-something wannabe cougar flounders a little too intentionally in the shallows, or when you’re dragging a fat guy back to shore and he wakes up and clocks you one upside the head, but all in all, those are few and far between. Mostly, the fifty-somethings keep to the sand, and the fat guys float pretty well on their own.

But this summer, it’s not those parties bothering me. It’s Jesse. Or, more specifically, Jesse and his newest fling.

See, Jesse’s one to always show up with a new girl on his arm. He’ll stick with one a couple months, then they’ll tire of his habits. He’s irresponsible like that, yet somehow has enough charm to keep acquiring new ones. Personally, I can’t figure it out, but to get back to my worries…

Jesse showed up this weekend at the beach, along with a couple other guys I know. Jesse actually showed up without feminine company, but quickly found himself some in a game of volleyball. He made a point to come by with a couple ladies in tow— I had to remind him I was on duty, and he sailed off to the shake shack, promising treats all ‘round.

A few hours later, as I was trading off with my relief, I saw the girls off on their own… and as I found the other guys enjoying a game of cornhole and a cooler of cold drinks, it left me wondering where Jesse was at.

I found him around the next dune, accompanied by a golden-haired beauty who smiled up at me, blue eyes sparkling like the water itself.

“Hey,” Jesse grinned up at me from his seat by a half-formed sandcastle. To the girl, he wiggled his brows as his hands flew through a series of gestures, and she covered her mouth against a giggle.

“She’s deaf,” he explained. “But a hottie, huh?”

I nodded. The girl watched his lips move with those blue, blue eyes, and a smile made her nose wrinkle in a way that made my stomach flop.

“She can lip-read, too,” I said, gesturing at her.

Jesse’s ears went red as he looked back at her, but she reached out and tapped his nose, winking and grinning widely, so bright it almost hurt to look at.

The red in his ears increased, and I realized that this girl, whoever she was, might be Jesse’s match in more ways than one. And it irritated me.

I pushed my hands in my pockets. “Since I’m finally off, I was going to see if you wanted to get something cold, but…”

Jesse turned back to her. “Want something to drink?”

She gestured at the castle, then gave him a rapid-fire set of gestures.

“If you’ll make it an ice cream,” he said, turning back with a smirk, “and wait until we get a little farther on the castle, sure.”

“I’ll get a bucket,” I took off to snag some ocean and get some air, letting out a long sigh. Man, what I wouldn’t give to have said hello first.

Of course, I wouldn’t have gotten as far as he did. I can’t speak sign language.

The peach ice cream tastes sweet, and it actually has decent-sized chunks of peach in it, like the stuff I used to get at the county fair when I was a kid— but it’s not long before I forget about it entirely. Jesse and Ella, (as that's what her name is) chat and chuckle, flinging half-melted droplets as they interact, clearly fond of one another. She’d picked a single scoop of vanilla, and he a double cone of strawberry.

“Vanilla? That’s so basic,” he’d snorted, and I ground my teeth as she, laughing quietly, had retorted by using her index finger to drag a little scoop out of the top of his cone, and licking it off with a wink, as if to say “Yours is mine, too.”

Mom always told me that you never got between a girl and her ice cream— it was one of the mortal sins with women, or something. How on earth did he get away with this behavior? I couldn’t figure it out, and it started to rub me the wrong way.

After they finished and I tossed my half-eaten cone, I paid for the ice cream, like I’d intended. Jesse didn’t have cash for it anyway… another downside of the constantly-wooing, never-committed. It’s an expensive habit. Besides, I get a discount for being a lifeguard.

“Thanks for all you do, kid,” Roger, the ice-cream guy, said.

“Yep. And thank you. It wouldn’t be the same without you around.”

He chortled, and scratched at his mustache. “I used to do what you do, kid. Trust me, it never quite leaves your bones if you’re any good at it. But it takes it outta ya, and if a cone can make your day a little better…”

I shook my head, glancing after Jesse and Ella. “Just wish I had a little something else, sometimes. Not that I ain’t grateful for the cone.”

Roger looked after them, too, and his brow creases. “Girls can be more trouble than they’re worth sometimes, kid. Probably better to avoid that one.”

The guys joined up with us then, having completed their game, and Ryan offered to grab kites he had in the back of his car. We spent the next hour or so running back and forth, the kites swooping and doing tricks.

I won’t brag, but I probably did some of the best stunts, simply because I was hoping to show off a little. It didn’t do much for my feelings, but it was a start.

Of course, she didn't take her eyes off Jesse long enough to watch much, but the work was something of its own reward.

“Hold up, guys,” Stuart shouted. “Tide’s starting in.” Hungry waves were lapping a little higher than usual, and we started back from the shoreline, some of us jogging more enthusiastically than others. I lingered near the back of the group, watching Ella watch Jesse. He’d strayed a little further from the rest of us, stooping to pick something up, and he was almost— almost —overtaken by a particularly high wave.

“Jesse!” we called, and he dashed up the beach just in time, laughing. He reached us in a moment, and offered Ella a small, brightly-colored scallop shell.

“Thought of you,” he said, grinning dumbly. Something in me went brittle, and I looked away quickly as Ella’s eyes lit up. Maybe… maybe this time, it was different. Maybe it wasn’t just a fling this time. Only time would tell.

It wasn’t that his gift took anything out of him; they rarely did. But it was the thoughtfulness of it. The colors in that shell were bright, sweet. Something most any girl would love (as my three sisters would attest), and Jesse ordinarily wouldn’t have thought of.

I wanted to say something dumb, but the words had dried up in my throat, and I nodded towards the clouds.

“I think we’re running out of time, guys.”

“Naw,” Griff said. “If someone’ll run to the Piggly Wiggly, we can have a clambake!”

He wasn’t the only one loath to see the day end, and as the others agreed, I was ‘volunteered’ to grab the potatoes and corn. Griff, being a decent guy, gave me an extra ten bucks for the trouble, but I didn’t stay to enjoy the evening. Weariness settled in my bones as I handed over the sticky-with-sweat grocery sack and saw Jesse and Ella chasing one another, laughing.

“You think it’s for real this time, too?” Griff said, and I shrugged. “If he doesn’t screw it up.”

“Sure you don’t wanna stay?”

“Yeah. I’m on shift tomorrow anyway.”

Griff nodded, understanding, and waved as I turned back and trudged along the boardwalk. It wasn’t that I was jealous of him, necessarily— I know that Jesse reaps what he sows. He doesn’t have much in the way of relationships with anyone, male or female. Some of us tolerate him because we feel sorry for him. Some do it because he was an old pal, and we’re loath to drop him when we aren’t much in the way of finding new ones, and some of us do it because the girls he leaves behind aren’t all bad. Some of us still hope he’ll change back to the kinder goof he used to be.

We just wish he would do it after she’s moved on.

I settle in the driver’s seat, and stare at the wheel. I can’t even summon the will to put the keys in right now. Instead, I look at myself in the rearview mirror.

What’s the matter with vanilla ice cream, anyway? Some of us are basic, but we work hard. Truth be told, chicks dig the gig a little less when they find out you’re not interested in flirting when people’s safety is on the line. And I never was much good with girls, despite having all those sisters.

I’d been described as ‘vanilla’ so many times that Ella’s cone had been like a tiny ray of hope for me. Obviously, it didn’t mean anything nearly so deep— man, I need sleep.

I put my face on my arms, leaning against the wheel, and let out a ragged breath. Sleep. It wouldn’t hurt to take a catnap here, would it..?

***

I wake, eyes feeling sticky, with a cramp in my back. The sky has long since gone dark, and a weak streetlight flickers near my car, illuminating the lot empty of all but two cars, one of which is mine. The beach is closed, then. How long did I sleep?

As I stretch, I hear a faint noise— laughter? Thunder? —and my eyes get a little clearer. The sky is overcast, and little flickers of cloud-to-cloud lightning illuminate their billows, and the restless sea.

As I reach for the ignition, I realize the other car is Jesse’s.

So… Ella dumped him and he’s moping? Or she rode in with a friend, and he’s out here somewhere, having a fun evening.

Whatever. I turn the key, and as my jeep grinds to life, realize that the sea isn’t getting any better. If he’s out here, he could be in danger pretty quickly. I stare at his convertible for a long time, and then let out a groan.

Doing the right thing sucks sometimes. Hope he’s moping. It’ll be less awkward that way.

I get out of the jeep, and the wind picks up, almost jerking the door out of my hand. I slam it shut, and make my way down to the beach.

“Jesse! You dummy!” I holler, hands cupped around my mouth. “This is no time to be out here!”

The sand stretches, empty, in both directions, and the wind shrieks, making me sorely wish I was wearing something other than my swim trunks and a raggy t-shirt.

Brilliant. Just brilliant.

The lightning flickers are getting more frequent, which is alternately helpful for finding my way, and disturbing since I’m a walking target. I stick as close as I can to the cragsides that divide the beach from the land above, as much to keep the lightning at bay as to avoid the sickly-looking water.

“Jesse!” The wind snatches my cry, and I grind my teeth as I jog along, praying that the lightning stays up there just a little longer. I have to shield my eyes against stray sand as the wind tosses and turns, matching the restlessness of the waves.

The sea roars, but above it, I think I hear a snatch or two of laughter, and I hurry along.

“Jesse!”

Around the next dune, there’s nothing, and around the next, nothing. Then I see figures up ahead.

Illuminated by lightning, Jesse and Ella are tangled together, seemingly unaware of their surroundings as the waves swirl upward past their knees. Another flash reveals Jesse’s back to me, both arms around Ella, and hers around him.

It would be a touching picture if they weren’t in a danger zone.

“Jesse! It’s getting dangerous! Get her and come back!”

Jesse doesn’t hear me. I wave my arms to try to catch their attention as I make my way closer, yelling at the top of my lungs.

Another flash reveals they’ve pulled apart a bit, and I strip my shirt and wave it like a flag, trying to get Ella’s attention. I slip as the waves creep higher, and almost go down, but right myself, real concern growing into something akin to panic.

“Jesse!”

Ella catches sight of me, now, but instead of coming my way or signing to Jesse, she takes a partial step backward, her face splitting into a radiant grin. She pulls on Jesse’s hand, and to my surprise her lips are moving. He takes a step with her, deeper into the water, which has now reached his waist and is visibly rising past it.

“Jesse!” I splash deeper as I realize something is very wrong.

Another flicker of light, and the water reaches chest level on Jesse, who follows her still as she steps— no, glides —effortlessly out to sea.

I kick off and start swimming, leaving my shirt behind. Is this some kind of crazy joke?

“Wake up! Come back!”

Above the roar of wind and wave, above the rumbling thunder, I catch a wisp of her voice. Eerily melodic, it melds with the storm then rises above it, like a force of nature itself. However, they never contrast… rather, it’s a call-and-response between her and the raging elements. And my limbs feel the pull of her song, though not as much as Jesse’s, I’d wager.

It comes to me in a flash. She, like the sea, is beautiful and utterly dangerous. Stories I hadn’t heard since middle school rise up in the back of my brain; stories of sirens. Creatures with songs so beautiful they lure men to their deaths. Creatures made of seafoam and spite. Creatures that prey upon those who know no fear, those always wandering, those who love beauty but rarely hold fast to anything.

They are the vengeful spirits of the sea, and one has Jesse.

I don’t know if I can save him. But I’m a lifeguard. My whole job is to save people from the sea... I have to try. Gritting my teeth, I glance up at the sky, which is now constantly illuminated as the lightning reaches a frenzy above us, cloud-to-cloud so quickly there’s more light than dark, take a deep breath, and plunge beneath the surface to keep myself from hearing more of her song. I focus on Jesse’s legs purposefully heading further and further from shore, and swim with all my might.

I’m a strong swimmer, but the sea seems to sense my purpose and the current attempts to draw me back to shore as Jesse is pulled closer to the horizon. But I haven’t kept this job for nothing. I slowly gain ground as my pulse grows louder in my ears, and I soon focus on that noise and that alone.

With each beat, I gain ground. Jesse won’t die on my watch. For all his stupidity… he’s a friend. With another stroke, and another, I come within reach of his legs. All but his head is underwater, now, and his movements are becoming more sluggish as cold and exhaustion begin to overtake him.

This won’t be fun, but it’s the best shot I’ve got. I grab Jesse’s ankle and drag it as I turn back.

He thrashes, and the water begins to whirl around us, throwing off my bearings. But I struggle on. My lungs are burning, now, and I kick towards the surface and seize a gulp of air as the storm crashes around us. Ella’s song is more a raging scream, now, and we’re forced under again as I get a glance of the shore to my right. Jesse’s ceased struggling, though whether because he’s cooperating or unconscious I don’t know. I strike out for the shoreline, now hoping against hope that I can make it, and sending up a prayer that if we don’t make it, that they’ll at least find our bodies.

Then, something snatches at my leg. I glance back to see luminous, vengeful blue eyes, and a reaching, clawlike hand. A mouth splitting in too many teeth.

I kick as hard as I can, and one foot connects.

Something tears at my leg, and pain blossoms. I let out a cry of pain, and my air with it. I struggle for the surface as hard as I can, but before I can make it there, another pain stabs deep into my calf.

I try to wrench free as a horrid hissing fills my ears, and my heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest. My lungs are burning—

>Crack<

The blow comes out of nowhere, and the pain in my leg decreases as a shriek fills my ears, even through the water. Then, all goes still.

A strong arm grabs mine, and I hang on for dear life, kicking and fighting to the surface.

I struggle to shore, washing up more than anything else. Jesse’s in tow, unconscious, but breathing audibly. The water is eerily still, and the clouds have parted as the moon shines down, illuminating the beach.

“You okay, kid?”

Roger, the ice-cream man, still grips my arm. His other hand holds a rifle.

“How..?” I choke, and cough up a little water., finally letting go and slumping down as the adrenaline gives out. My limbs feel like noodles.

“Told you, I used to be a guard.” He kneels next to Jesse in the sand, grunting a little as he does so, and pokes him. Jesse lets out a bit of a groan, and Roger shakes his head. “He’ll have a headache, but won’t be too worse for wear.”

“I don’t understand,” I say.

“We’ll have to have a talk sometime soon,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “But for now, kid, I think some rest is in order. You did good. Just remember what I said… some girls can be more trouble than they’re worth.”

Something Cool to Me:

I am a fan of a manga called World Trigger. I nerd out about it occasionally... long story short, people from other worlds (think other worlds in floating dimensions that can cross over with ours in limited doorways) can (and do) make war on us, but there are good guys out there, as well as the bad guys, and the world is slowly unfolding for cadets of the human group. Now that that's settled:

The newest volume just came out. The author had been majorly struggling with his health so for awhile, it was in doubt whether or not the series would continue. But he was transferred to a group where there was more schedule freedom/leeway, so that his work could still go on. So, in this newest volume, there was something I was ecstatic about.

(SOME SPOILERS HERE:)

We have a POW who's fighting for us, currently, named Hyuse.

(This guy)

Hyuse is from a very warlike country that places a great deal of value on strategy and military strength. He's a loyal dude who is only working with us long enough to get home to his old master (or so he claims), but he is forging alliances here, as well. There's a training that many must pass if they want a chance to be included in the next mission out into the worlds-at-large. As he wants to go home, he's working with us very well, which includes him helping to train a rather incapable person, Wakamura.

Wakamura (to the left) is something of a weakling (like our protagonist, Osamu, to the right), and audibly compares himself to him, wondering just what works for Osamu that he hasn't got.

Which is where Hyuse lays it out for him:

• Stop assuming that someone else has a 'magic solution'. Hard work is what goes on behind the scenes when you see another's success, even if you think you're coming from the same place.
• Be willing to ask questions, and think of specific ways to improve yourself, ways to improve upon your hard work. (Working hard is good and extremely important, but if you work hard 8 hours a day to dig a hole with your hands when you could be using a shovel... get the drift?)
• Don't put things off indefinitely, if they're important to you. Set concrete deadlines/goals. (For example, train with someone new and say you have to beat them 22 times)
• Break things into manageable pieces to complete big goals.
• Don't expect others to carry your weight and make things happen for you-- it's your effort that makes the difference.
• Don't wallow in self-pity over the past. What's done is done. Start fresh now.
• Stop worrying that you might not be good enough: improving is as simple as it was learning any other task you take for granted right now.

And I loved that. It was surprisingly compassionate from a guy who can be... a little less than cordial. He has his moments of brilliance and an extreme amount of capability... but compassion is something he's dreadfully short on. And while it's tough-love, he actually cares about the guy enough to push him in the right direction.

The author said that that Wakamura is a guy who's like himself when he was younger, and the part of the story I admired the most was that, perhaps, he was talking to his past self with compassion. Not condemnation-- but a little tough-love guidance.

Closing thoughts:

Between the personal, and the talk with Hyuse above, I'll tie it all together with this:

Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.

Stand therefore, having girded your waist with truth, having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God; praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, being watchful to this end with all perseverance and supplication for all the saints—

God asks us to stand. Not to go be the best warrior ever, but to stand faithfully. Sometimes, standing is a waiting game. Sometimes, standing in place requires pushing back against a current. Sometimes, it requires just doing the daily grind.

But He doesn't ask us to do it alone: "Be strong IN THE LORD and in the power of His might." "Praying always."

That indicates us dwelling in His presence with prayer. We aren't to try it all ourselves, and we haven't been left in the lurch.

The fox bows again, and as it turns to leave, cocks its head.

"Shall I take a message in return?"